Against The Kiddie Rock Movement
The story in yesterday’s Times about Justin Roberts, a star of the “kiddie rock movement,” made me want to puke more than it probably should have. Justin’s back-up band is called the Not Ready For Naptime Players, which is legitimately nauseating. And reporter Jodi Rudoren gushes—”Though he seems a natural poet, Mr. Roberts said writing is a painful process…”—and overshares such information as the fact that, for her first mother’s day, her husband got Mr. Roberts to call and serenade her over the phone. Other than that, though, it’s a perfectly normal article about a singer/songwriter who has found success making kids music that touches on more mature themes than most kids music usually does: divorce, death, moving to a new town. “You might say Mr. Roberts is the Judy Blume of kiddie rock,” Rudoren writes.
Why the churning stomach? Maybe it’s the subject of children’s music in itself. I don’t much like it. I got so sick of listening to my kids’ records in the first few years of his life, I was tempted to break the CD player in his room. (He’d destroyed a stereo of mine in his early months with an arc of urine sent from his changing table—blue sparks, loud explosion, much smoke. He’s probably lucky that a surge of voltage didn’t flow back up through the stream and electrocute him. But that’s another story.) We signed him up for a sing-along-and-clap class in the neighborhood that sent him home with a new CD every week. He liked them, unfortunately, and more than the ’60s soul or the Beatles songs I tried to push on him. The day he finally fell for the Soundtrack to The Yellow Submarine was one of the great moments of relief in my life.
Not all children’s music is terrible, of course. The snippets of Roberts’ songs available to listen to with the Times piece actually sound pretty okay. And from what I’ve heard of it, the children’s music made by Laurie Berkman and Dan Zanes is quite enjoyable. Dan Zanes, as Rudoren points out, is probably the very biggest star of the “kiddie rock movement,” if that’s what we’re really calling it—but I’ll always remember him best from the 1980s, when I was in high-school, and he was band called the Del Fuegos who put out an album called Boston, Mass. that I wore deep grooves in on my record player.
Maybe it’s the label, “kiddie rock,” and the fact that Jodi Rudoren and so many other parents talk about how they get into it like they do their own music. “At first I was embarrassed to realize that I was listening to this stuff even when I was alone in the car,” says Rudoren. “But then I noticed all the other adults at a concert sing-shouting every word.” (Puke!) Even if it happens, and I know it does, let’s not talk about it. Or if we do talk about it, let’s not call it “rock” and pretend that it’s cool. It’s something different, even at it’s best. It’s nice, and wholesome, and that’s fine. But the whole notion of rock, the way I’ve always looked at it, is not nice and wholesome. It’s not kid’s stuff. It’s grown-up. Or, at least adolescent, teenage-wanting-to-be-grown-up. It’s about grown-up things. Sex, mostly, I guess. But also rebelling against people older than you in a way that’s claiming some grown-up self-determination of your own. Also danger, which I hope would not be heavy in the mix at the Justin Roberts concert where all the parents are sing-shouting every word. Maybe that’s the big difference: danger. Real rock always carries at least a hint of danger—even if it’s only the danger that your parents maybe wouldn’t approve of the way you’re feeling in your pants while you’re listening to it.
Listen to that Del Fuegos song. Listen to Dan Zanes’ voice. The sex in the ache in it. He doesn’t sing that way anymore. You wouldn’t want him to, not if he was singing to your kids.
Kiddie rock? Yuck.
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First of all, it’s Laurie “Berkner,” not Berkman. Second, the Times article does list “kindie” as the operative term. Not that you’re interested in facts (or even reading the full article you’re panning), but I just thought this needed clarification for those readers who have IQ’s.
Before blogs, I always wondered why journalists/critics needed a degree/an education. Now I get it. There’s something about learning the fundamentals about journalism that is sorely lacking in blog writing, ie no fact checking, the unabashed spewing of opinion based on, well, nothing but hate.
Mr. Bry seems to be more interested in condemnation than actually spouting an informed opinion. Don’t get me wrong. He has every right to not like something or someone, but to just spread anger through words is, at best, a pathetic attempt to get attention<—just like a kid!
Thus, his whole premise is flawed. He says that the whole point of rock is "grown up" and about "sex." Well, I guess, by that notion, most of the classic rock songs are for kids. If he were to have done any research (or even thinking for that matter), Bry would have seen/heard that most of the greatest rock songs of all time have nothing to do with sex at all. SEE most of the Beatles songs (mostly about love). He could have chosen a better argument, ie most rock songs display or are about angst. That is true. Where Bry would have still erred, however, is that many artists in the Kindie genre do write about angst.
The main thing that escapes Bry, however, is that the Kindie movement is about music for families. As a parent myself, I exposed my children to a wide array of music, including the Beatles, Hendrix, Miles Davis, and many, many more. That being said, they also love Lunch Money, Dan Zanes, et al as well. All of this music is the type that a family can experience together, though it seems Bry would rather break his kid's stereo. What happened to you, Dave? Did your mother not hug you enough?
Lastly, I think Mr Bry should have a conversation with Jeff Tweedy (Wilco), Perry Farrell (Jane's Addiction), Patti Smith, Ben Harper, Slash (G&R/Velvet Revolver/Guitar Hero) – and the list goes on and on – to uncover what is truly going on in this movement as all those "rockers" have played and recorded music for families/kids and have all played the Kidzapalooza stage (a family stage at Lollapalooza). Are they all fooling themselves too, Dave? You know more about rock than those people? Of course, you do. You're a blogger!
Please give your son my regrets.
Sam
Until fifteen minutes ago, I’d never heard of you or Bry (or kiddie rock). But if I was a kid and had to pick a dad between the two of you based on what was written here, I’m going with Bry.
P.S. You might want to switch to decaf.
In response to another comment. See in context »I agree with you, Dave, that rock for grownups is meant for… grownups (well, and for hormonal teenagers, too, I guess). But the kindie music movement has struck a chord. You can’t ignore it. The best stuff out there, including the music by Justin Roberts and Dan Zanes, speaks to anyone of any age.
Justin Roberts’ music isn’t true rock and roll. I don’t think that’s what he is striving for. I’d describe him as more of a power pop influenced singer-songwriter who strikes a chord with parents because he deals with situations and little anxious moments we all remember – getting new glasses, going to picture day at school, trick or treating, and even dealing with your parents’ divorce – in such a way that anyone can relate to it.
And Dan Zanes’ new family music strikes me as being far more memorable and important than anything he ever did with the Del Fuegos. Certainly, this family music feeds his soul a lot more than songs about drinking and old girlfriends, as he so smartly talked about on Friday night at Kindiefest in Brooklyn.
I’m glad you are introducing your son to all kinds of music. But when a songwriter actually presents songs that matter to all kinds of people, I hope you’ll try to understand why(and not get sick in thinking about it).
Good and well-put points, BBCPDX. Thanks.
In response to another comment. See in context »